Tuesday 1.10 - First Mission

[pichi.livejournal.com]

With the sun down and the moon steadily rising into the slate-colored sky, Omi hugged the wall of the building as he moved for the unguarded side entrance. For good measure, he scanned the area once more on reaching it before withdrawing a miniature spray can and a handheld device from one of his jacket pockets. The can discharged a fine powder across the keys, revealing five faint partial fingertips over the 0, the 8, the 3, the 2, and the7.

Yoshi.

Omi entered the same numbers into the device and pushed a green button. The device rapid-fired through a series of electromagnetic transmissions, radioing to the keypad's control box all possible combinations of the numbers in search of the right one.

It only took a few moments to find it. The door unlocked and Omi slipped inside.

He looked around, listened for trouble and heard nothing. Quickly returning the items from his pocket to their home in his jacket, Omi ran for the nearest vent, mindful of the security cameras along the way. From there he crawled through the building's air ducts, having memorized the layout from the blueprints he'd dug up. At predetermined locations throughout the ventilation system, he placed explosives from his backpack.

Just in case they needed a back-up plan.

Finally he made his way to the utility room; a careful scan of the room showed no sign of guards. If only he had 100 yen for every time that was a security system's fatal flaw. Dropping down into the room, Omi moved to the fuse box and opened the panel. Simple as that, he pulled the fuse.

He pressed the talk button on his headset. "Systems down. Meet me at the side entrance."

Comments

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran was tense, his coat flapping in the slight breeze. One hand was gripped around his katana, deceptively lowered at his side.

There was no movement in the parking lot when Omi's voice crackled over the headset. It seemed strangely unprepared for any breach of security.

This is a strange mission, he affirmed his own thought. Kritiker seemed to be cutting corners, sending their assassin team for reconnaisance. However, it did seem to be most efficient. They were there to take out their targets. It would be no different than retrieving a victim.

He gave a nod towards Yohji, indicating they should join Omi at the door. They were a team here. All of Ran's - Aya's - focus was on the mission.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji stilled his foot, which he only just noticed he'd been neurotically tapping in an effort to simulatenously calm his nerves and wake himself up. He stared at Ran, wishing there was some way for him to absorb some of his teammate's apparent inner calm. If the other man was even remotely nervous about this mission, not a trace of it was leaking onto his expressionless face.

He almost saw Ran nod before Omi's broadcast even registered to him. Not good! Snap out of it man, you need your reflexes. Being slow isn't an option right now. He bit the inside of his mouth, hoping that the brief pain would refocus his attention. It helped, and Yohji nodded back before turning to stride towards the entrance Omi had indicated. I am not going to fuck up tonight.

It was so quiet that Yohji could hear the tiny pieces of gravel scatter as his boots dislodged them from the asphalt. He found it unsettling. Experience from past missions put him further on edge; a busy target was one that didn't suspect their attack. Stillness like this felt artifical, like the target was waiting for them. Were they walking into a trap? If they were, Yohji wasn't going to stop walking into it. He was determined to hold up his end of the orders this time, nagging insticts or not. I am not going to fuck up.

Stopped at the door, Yohji resumed observing Ran.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran tensed, sweeping his eyes over the team and the grounds before making eye contact with Omi for the go-ahead.

Briefing on security had been vague, which didn't sit well with him. He didn't rule out the possiblity of a trap waiting for them beyond the door. Target numer three's face was printed in his mind, but where they would find him would be guesswork, as would any additional security measures the scientists might have taken.

Omi had asked him to take the target down for Yohji. Something he would have done anyway, but it felt akin to working with a broken arm. The ex-detective wouldn't like it if he knew. He would be counted on for cover, but on the other hand that depended on them sticking to the script.

The disk - the other wild card. Kritiker wanted it unmeddled with. It didn't sound like they wanted any sort of information on it retrieved, either. So what would be the point of questioning the targets? Peace of mind?

...lack of trust, for Ran. He shook off the unsettled feeling, whittling it down to being too long off duty. Too long off duty, and too many things leftover from the day railing against his subconscious, no matter how fixedly he sought to push away the conversation with Aya, whatever was happening with Yohji, Ken's burgeoning irrationality, Sato's frustrating response to his desperate demand.

This was a simple mission. None of the rest mattered. Get the targets, get the disk, get out.

He gave Omi a small nod.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

There was a fly perched on the top of Ken’s shoe. He was only aware of it in his peripheral vision; the majority of his focus was locked on the relatively distant spot where he would be meeting with the others. He waited with an almost unnatural stillness, only the occasional blink betrayed that he was alive at all.

It came as a pleasant surprise, how easily he fell back into this mode of operation. All of his senses were heightened, his muscles were tensed, but not strained, and every part of him was primed and waiting for the sound of Omi’s voice to come over the set. He didn’t dwell on the oddities of the mission. That wasn’t his role tonight.

All he had to do was what he was told, hold up his end of the work, follow orders. Things were easier that way.

"Systems down. Meet me at the side entrance."

Time to go. Ken bolted from the shadows as though propelled by an invisible force, skirting around to the pre-determined spot in record time. The others were there already; a quick scan showed everything to be clear. For a fleeting moment, there was a flare-up of disappointment. There was no time to analyze that, not when there was work to be done.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi paused on his way back to the side entrance, backing up against the wall as he heard voices. He cautiously tipped his head just enough to peek around the corner, spotting the first and third targets in conversation. He didn't see the second.

This isn't good... It won't be easy to stay near Ken-kun if the targets we're shadowing are in different places. And it's going to be harder for Aya-kun and Yohji-kun to avoid a commotion with their target not alone.

Think, Tsukiyono. Omi slipped past the door and dashed to the side entrance; worry lined his young features as he let in his teammates.

"I think we might be in a little trouble," he guiltily whispered.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Omi's words brought a lurch to Yohj's stomach, as a spectrum of potentially deadly scenarios rapidly flickered through his mind.

Was Omi seen? Was I seen? more guards than we expected? An arsenal of automatic firearms? The fuse not clearly marked? This could go wrong in more ways than I can even think of....

"Trouble?" he whispered, hoping that he was succeeding in his effort to keep a calm and neutral expression. Omi had preceded that with 'little' so maybe it wasn't so bad. Except for the fact that Omi had said it in the exact same slightly strained tone of politeness which a hostess might use to inform her guests that the kitchen was on fire. Omi's polite tones always made Yohji nervous.

His eyes scanned Ran and Ken's faces to evaluate their reactions to Omi's announcement.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

"How?" Ran whispered, voice taut in its quietness.

He was impatient to get this over with. Three scientists in an all but deserted building. Their team had faced monsters and abilities beyond what should exist; Three targets, and a disk. One target for each, one Weiss for the disk. His fingers tightened on his katana.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

"The target we need to isolate is with one of the other two. I don't know where the other one is-- I didn't see him. We'll need to adapt our strategy a little, is all."

And off the top of my head, I don't know what we should do.

He didn't say that last part out loud. Aya had a remarkable ability to make Omi feel all of three inches tall. The last thing he wanted to do was justify it.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

Ken watched the whole exchange in complete silence, keeping his face as still and serious as he could. From the moment Omi announced the snag in the plan, he found himself holding his breath.

They were both *so* close, and it would be simple for him just to run in, kill the one and incapacitate the other. Easy as pie.

It made him freeze. Those were not the thoughts of a teammate, and he had a brief flash of fear that somehow they would be able to sense it. He had to be on his toes.

He glanced over at Omi, nodding to show he understood the plan. His fists clenched just enough to slide the tips of his claws out, and a small, dry smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Just give me the kill order. I'll be ready."

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi's eyes traveled across the spread of his teammates-- Yohji. Aya. Ken. He felt the nervous energy in the air around them and tried to block it out. He looked briefly back to Yohji and nodded to all of them. "Un. It's down this way, everyone."

After a moment to look and listen, to double check they still hadn't been spotted, Omi led the way through the halls towards the room where the two targets had been seen.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Something felt not quite right to Yohji, and it wasn't the glitch in the plan. Why had Omi's gaze lingered on him the longest just now? It was as if he thought that by chaperoning, he could stave off some disaster that he expected Yohji to instigate.

He hadn't missed the eager quality in Ken's voice as he said Just give me the kill order, either. Hadn't Ken followed that the first target was being taken down with darts?

They just didn't seem to be moving properly as a -team- tonight. The balance was off, but the change was subtle and hard to pin down.

Yohji shook it off and nodded to Omi before silently following.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran took a step after them.

"Hey!"

He whirled. Two security guards were running at them, both reaching for their hips. One was a good ten yards behind the other.

Damn. "Go!" He snapped at his teammates. Without looking backwards, he jerked into action. The man closest to him suddenly realized the intruder he was facing had no intention of listening to him. His eyes widened.

"Hey...wait..." His hands went up, by his head. "I'm just -"

Ran - Aya raised his sword. "Meet your -"

Aya-chan.

Ran stumbled.

The first guard used the split-second mistake to reach for his gun. Aya knocked it out of his hand and spun to bring the hilt of his sword down on his neck.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

Ken caught it all, even though he didn’t want to. All of them, each and every one, faltered. In the face of what things were really like, down here the visceral and the viscous, the others hesitated and stumbled.

They were able to pull themselves together. They covered it up, glossed it over, put the shields of distance back up, moved on, and left Ken behind. The coppery scent and petrifying coolness of drying blood was all too familiar: it was a rare fight where he didn’t end up with some of the stuff splattered on him.

The motions of tidying up was becoming eerily familiar to Ken as well, and as he rescued a disk from an oozing puddle of blood, carefully cleaning off a corner so it wouldn’t get damaged, the thought that at least this wasn’t a mess *he’d* made this time fluttered across his thoughts.

“Do I look like a maid to you guys?” He muttered under his breath, not conscious of really doing it until the words were out. His eyes immideatly snapped over to the head. The face was frozen in an expression of terror, and Ken locked gazes with it. All movement ceased, and Ken was honestly unable to look away.

He was going to turn into stone looking into this dead man’s eyes. The blood would dry hard as a marble coffin and trap him forever inside, never letting him atone, keeping him prisoner until the flesh fell from his bones and the bones turned into dust that no one would ever clean-

The spell was broken by a techno version of Fur Elise. Ken opened his mouth, sucking in air like a drowning man and tore his gaze away. The music swelled, then began again. It was the targets cell phone, ringing cheerfully from where it had been dropped. Ken froze until the ringing stopped, got up, and walked over.

#One missed call: Ayumi#

Fur Elise began to play, the phone lit up, it shook and buzzed.

Then it was lying crushed beneath Ken’s boot, tiny bits of plastic and metal scattered everywhere.

Ken brushed the debris from his shoe and hurried in the direction the team went, making sure to pick up the disc container along the way.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

The tinny, computerized melody of a cell-phone ring follwed Ran and Omi around the corner, silenced abruptly. The reinforced reminder of the attachments target two left behind was unwelcome.

Ken had retrieved the box for them, but the problem Ran was considering was that if there were so many disks, how could they be sure there were not still more in the facility? Why was Kritiker's information so lax? Unless security was much tighter and Weiss was the only key to the lab, but their experience so far proved that not to be the case.

The lab in front of them was dark, where Omi had said the other two were. Ran pushed open the door gently anyway and slid inside, feeling around for a switch. A moment later, the room was illuminated in flourescent blue-white light. One bulb was out in the far corner, flickering in and out.

Four computers were on, logged off messages on each. No one was visible. There was no other exit, as far as he could see. He edged against the wall, circling the room, peering down the rows of desks to see if anyone was crouched beneath.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi forcibly pushed away thoughts of the cell phone and its haunting rings through the air, followed by the crunch and scatter of plastic. Concentrate ahead-- it's no time to look back and dwell.

His heart sank when he found the room dark and seemingly deserted.

He doubted there was anyone in the room, but approved of Ran's brief check through it. He stationed himself at the door, watching and listening for any further trouble.

Where could they have gone? I was only gone a couple of minutes.

And it wasn't exactly a quiet couple of minutes-- but everything was in order. Lights out, computers logged out. If they'd left in alarm, Omi doubted everything would seem so... normal.

Was his timing really that unlucky?

Omi spared a cursory look back in the room, trying to ignore the little voice telling him if not for the disk part of the mission, they would already be leaving. He could have taken out the first two in a single swing had they not needed one alive, and they'd met the last one in the hall. Instead they only had one target down and a whole box of disks, likely none of them being the one they wanted. They had a decapitated man in a huge pool of blood in the middle of a well-lit hallway.

And they had only very limited time before someone came across it, and all hell would break loose.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

The expressions on Ran and Omi's faces told Yohji not to even bother searching the room. There was no one in it to find.

"I thought you knew where the targets were," he said stupidly. Realizing that he sounded like a jackass, he added, "I'm sorry. It's just that I...." What? He didn't have an end to the thought.

Yohji looked up, half entertaining the idea that maybe the targets had escaped through the vents. The image of lab techs shimmying up the ceiling without making a noise didn't strike him as very likely. Why did he always think of the least plausible scenerios -first-? More likely they had the wrong room. Or the targets had simply strolled out while he was taking an impossibly long time to do his end of the job....

Still glancing at the array of computers (as if staring hard enough would make clues appear,) Yohji began to back out of the room, expecting that there must be another one close by to search. His progress was impeded by a very solid object in his path.

"Don't bother coming in Siberian," he whispered, "it's empty..."

His attempt to turn around was halted by the sudden unpleasant sensation of a metal barrel being pressed into the center of his back.

"It doesn't look empty to me," replied a mellow voice that most certainly did not belong to Ken.

Oh shit.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi was glad to see all three of his teammates had moved on without him. He leapt over the bodies strewn in the hallways, blood from the decapitated target splashing over his shoes and calves and staining his white socks.

The instant he heard and felt the thunderous vibrations of the explosion he dove for cover in a closet, curling himself tight with his arms over his head. The explosions dominoed through the building, first the one in the cabinet, followed by the string of them he’d planted in the vents. Heat rippled and sent debris flying past the door-- past the door, and into it.

When everything settled, Omi felt relatively unhurt. Burned from the heat and lightly battered from supplies that had fallen on him, but no serious injuries. The problem occurred as he uncurled into darkness, and felt the doorway blocked by a mountain of rubble.

This, Omi thought, was why he should listen to Aya more often.

He tried to ignore the seed of panic pitting in his stomach. Instead he stood and began feeling over the chunky blockade of scraps. He thought it felt a little loose near the top, and managed to push something out of the way based on the tumble to the floor he heard. There was still no light, but that was to be expected-- the lights were surely blown from the explosions.

He reached behind him for the flashlight he kept in his pack, an inspection of the debris revealing an opening Omi thought he could squeeze through. He carefully climbed and fit his arms through, then his head. A little more wriggling in spite of the pain against the light burns on his back, and his chest was out as well.

It all would have been fine if his weight and squirming hadn’t caused a shift in the debris. One piece faltered. The pile caved in towards the closet, and Omi-- small though he was-- found himself suddenly compressed against the top of the door frame. The jagged texture of building wreckage dug into his upper abdomen, making it difficult to breathe. He scrabbled with his feet for something solid to push against; nothing more than a toehold. He pushed against the wall behind him; no headway. The pain in his chest grew. Omi stopped struggling and relaxed his body, his focus on simply breathing.

Yes. It was enough to keep him alive.

Just as long as he didn’t move.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

Ken snapped to at the sound of Ran’s order, unknotting the shirt around his waist and tossing it over, being careful not to look too long at the bloody form of Yohji crumpled on the grass. There were a few more explosions in the background, and Ken’s brain abruptly hiccupped.

There was no Omi. Omi was behind them, he knows it, because they were all trying to get the hell out, but there were explosions and no Omi, and Omi liked to set detonations up ahead of time, so he should’ve been there, and he wasn’t-

“Going back, Omi’s gone.” Ken yelled back at Ran over his shoulder, already running top speed back to the now crumbling building. He hustled over debris and around obstacles, squinting in the darkness to navigate the now completely alien terrain. At one point he slipped and tumbled ass backward down a small hill of concrete and steel, and only an exposed doorframe snagging his pants kept him from cracking open his skull.

~He has to be here, he has to, please don’t be buried here that’s not the way this was supposed to go-shit my leg’s caught, come on let go-I’ll find him, he’s ok, he’s Omi, he’ll pop up and-this is all wrong~

“Bombay!” Ken freed himself and made his way up and over the top of the rubble, half sliding down the other side. A small swell of panic was starting to rise in his chest, and he started retracing the escape route inch by careful inch.

~Answer me Omi, please, yell! Scream! Even if it’s just to call me a incompetent fuckup who can’t do a simple mission right, say something~

“Bombay! Are you ok? Where are you?!”

~Even if you never speak to me again after this please say something now, please~

“Bombay! If you’re here answer me! BOMBAY.”

-the tower was falling down around them, dust filling their lungs and stones tumbling alongside them into the cold, unforgiving sea-

“OMI!!” Ken tripped over wires and stumbled on chunks of destroyed flooring. One section was obviously the direct victim of a blast; the entire hall was a dead end of rubble. Ken tore at it, digging frantically as the panic threatened to completely take over.

A precariously balanced chunk of concrete slipped free and beamed him on the head, causing him to let out a pained yelp and a few choice words before continuing to dig a clearer path.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

He heard it: Ken, frantically yelling, screaming his name. Bombay. BOMBAY. OMI!

He didn't have the power to yell back, not pinned as he was with his lungs sandwiched between rough slabs of concrete. The most he could manage was a strained exhalation just below conversational volume.

Of course, when you were Omi, that was all you needed. With grim humor, he felt about his head and found the talk button to his headset.

“It’s ok, Ken-kun... I’m okay. Calm down.”

Really, Ken, he thought, you never stop and think when your emotions are running high, do you?

And that was okay. It was nice to know he had a constant in his life.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

“It’s ok, Ken-kun... I’m okay. Calm down.”

The sudden voice in his ear had him looking around for the briefest moment before he stopped, let out a very shaky breath, and reached up for his own talk button.

"A-Are you? Really? Can you tell me where you are?"

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ken threw the shirt at him and took off. It took Ran another second to lower his head.

It was enough for him to realize that he was glad that he was left alone for this, and that Yohji was unconscious.

If this was going to happen, it would have to be now. People could only be unconscious for a matter of minutes without serious consequences, Ran knew from experience.

If Kudoh so much as thinks about using this against him -

Mouth open, he pressed his lips to Yohji's, and breathed.

Dammit.

Pump, breathe. If CPR didn't work -

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

The first thing Yohji noticed was the taste of blood. It was, unfortunately not all too unfamiliar a sensation. Although bitter, it wasn't an especially unpleasant taste, and it wouldn't bother him at all if not for the fact that he was never quite certain whether it was his own blood seeping into his mouth, or that of a target's. It always gave him the creeps to put too much thought into that particular technicality.

The second thing Yohji noticed, was that he ought to have been standing up (or, more accurately, leaning up,) and for some reason he wasn't. He was finding himself flat on the ground with absolutely no memory of getting from A to B. From his experience, this was never a good thing.

It wasn't until these two thoughts had processed before his brain managed to wrap around the third thing, which probably should have been his first observation, considering the sheer proximity involved.

Ran is right in my face.

Another moment of observation allowed him to expand on this thought.

Ran is right in my -mouth-.

He would have been lying to himself if he didn't admit to having fantasized about scenarios very similar to the one he was presently finding himself in. Although it was rather disappointing to notice the myriad ways in which reality was failing to live up. For example, not being able to breathe really turned the enjoyment factor down a notch. The stabbing, throbbing pain radiating out of his upper chest rather put a damper on the fun too. And oh, hell, so long as he was complaining--Ran really could stand to look a little less like he wanted to kill someone, and at least pretend he was enjoying himself.

A thrust on his chest--damn, watch the injury, remember?--and a sudden coughing fit returned his ability to breathe.

He tried moving the arm with the gash and was relieved to find it was no longer numb. He must have just briefly gone into shock.... Everything still felt tingly and weak though. Not to mention hurt like a motherfucker.

"I'll have to get in Ken's way more often." He attempted to joke, but it fell kind of flat.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran couldn't hide his relief. He made up for the lapse by snapping, "Stop moving!"

He quickly tore strips off of Ken's shirt, viciously because it was an outlet for his anger at the situation, if a meager one. He was carefully gentler when he used them to bind Yohji's wounds.

They need a first aid kit, or a hospital.

And what would happen if they had to explain it to Kritiker?

Ran carefully avoided Yohji's gaze during the process, eyes flicking upwards only to make sure he was still awake. He was disgusted with himself for thinking it, but the feel of Yohji's lips on his own had surprised him.

And seeing Yohji, white and unconscious on the ground -

Yohji's half-hearted quip had reminded him of what he'd told Ran, even now, during the aftermath of this wreck of a mission. He hid how uncomfortable he was and his confusion behind practiced concentration.

He finished tying the last bandage. "Can you make it to the car?"

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji scrunched his eyes shut, expecting Ran’s treatment of his wound to be about on par with the violent thrusting of the CPR. It was more or less what he deserved, and he hardly expected special treatment. Not when Ran looked so…upset, and Yohji was fully aware that his current situation was the direct result of his fuck-up.

The anticipated pain never came.

He cracked his eye open again, wondering what was taking so long, and was shocked to find Ran already working at his shoulder in apparently deep concentration. He was being so careful that Yohji hadn’t felt him.

It almost looks like he might care.

The thought caused a painful jab which was completely unrelated to his injury. Yohji tried to ignore it, this was a terrible time to get his hopes up. He was a teammate and he could have died. Of course Ran cared.

In spite of this, he couldn’t stop himself from fixating on Ran’s every movement. He had expected Ran to be mad. While he couldn't quite take credit for all of the ways in which the mission had turned into a disaster, he'd certainly done his share. Ran ought to be reviving him, just to throttle him unconcious again. Yohji wasn't sure if the relief he thought he saw was was only wishful thinking. But there was no denying the fact that the expected anger was mysteriously absent. If anything, Ran seemed nervous.

The moment was quickly broken by a final knot in his make-shift bandage and the question "Can you make it to the car?"

“I don’t know,” Yohji tried sitting up, and was overtaken by a wave of nausea and dizziness. “Maybe,” he tentatively moved his legs, but didn’t feel strong enough to put any weight on them yet. “Everything seems to still work, I just feel really weak.”

He stalled getting up, not at all confident that he could actually stand on his own. "How's your arm?" he sidetracked.

Modding

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Responses following have been merged into Wednesday 1 - Shadows (Cont'd). Play shifted to email format during the one-day LJ strike, so posts to this are now in transcript format).